


Courtly Affairs

by dancey94



Category: Elizabeth I (TV 2005), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, The Three Musketeers (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Elizabethan Era, First Kiss, Hannibal Extended Universe, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, no idea how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 10:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10436007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancey94/pseuds/dancey94
Summary: Count Rochefort comes unofficially to help the Queen of England with a case of treason. Her Majesty goes away, leaving her favourable boy, the Earl of Essex, to take care of Her guest.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so terribly sorry for this x__x  
> also, just so everything is clear, in case You haven't watched Elizabeth:  
> Earl of Essex = Robert Devereux = Robin

The carriage passed the gates and rushed straight into the courtyard. Its wheels splashed the water from the puddles on the ground. Fortunately, the visit was not an official one, which would require the whole entourage to wait and soak in the heavy rain. There were only a few maids waiting for their guest’s commands and the usual guards by the walls.

As soon as the carriage stopped twenty feet from the entrance, a servant approached it with an umbrella to protect the guest. The driver jumped off and, with as much grace as he could muster, opened the door for his master.

The man who emerged from the carriage was tall and when he put on a large hat he was holding, his figure became intimidating. Due to the rain and the gloom, it was fairly difficult to see the man’s face, with additional shadow cast by his hat. It was only after he took a few steps in the direction of the castle’s entrance that allowed the host to recognise him.

And the host was none other than the Queen of England, only not personally because Queen Elizabeth was away, at her cousin’s, so she had appointed her favourite boy, Robin, to take care of their guest.

The Earl of Essex had been anxious about the visit but also determined to pass that test. If Count Rochefort left the court satisfied, or at least not offended, Robin would be greatly appreciated and there were all sorts of benefits he hoped to get after performing the task.

Even before the queen left, Robin had asked her about Rochefort. He’d heard rumours about him being a violent man, one to be easily offended and thrown off balance. Bess didn’t confirm any of the rumours but she did very little to deny them, either. She kept smiling at her boy and repeating in a reassuring tone that he was the most suitable person to greet the count in her stead.

It had been an honour to hear but with Rochefort’s every step, Robin was getting more and more unsure of his role in that meeting. Still, he stood upright, proud to be there in the Queen’s name, and was about to greet Count Rochefort.

The man stopped before Robin and only then did the Earl of Essex start noticing every little detail of his guest’s appearance. There was an eyepatch covering his left eye, a very particularly shaped beard, lips with the upper part more prominent than the lower one, and a specific bone structure, which made the man look both charismatic and terrifying.

“Welcome.” Robin announced firmly and stretched out his arm for the man to shake his hand, which he did, to Robin’s relief. “How was your journey?”

“It was good until the English border. Then, the rumours of your pathetic weather proved to be true.”

Robin smiled politely, trying to hide his annoyance.

“Yes, well, it’s not always like that. But I think we should come inside now. I wouldn’t want you to freeze or get wet.”

The Earl of Essex led the way into the castle, straight to one of the biggest rooms. There were torches and lamps everywhere, providing light on such a murky day. In the centre of the room that the men entered, there was a long table, already laid out for two.

“I assumed you’d be hungry after your journey.”

“I can eat.”

Robin kept the smile on his face because he knew it was the right thing to do. He was also aware that once in his chamber in the evening, he’d be finally allowed to relax his muscles. Hopefully, that grin would come off.

The Earl of Essex called for the servants, who brought trays with food and carafes with wine. The men were presented with the dishes made of the best products that English farmers had to offer. Robin could only hope Rochefort would not complain about the traditional food of his country. Thankfully, he did not.

They ate mostly in silence, exchanging pleasantries and meaningless comments about the interior design or the health of the Queen.

Then, after a drink, Robin introduced the problem England was facing. The servants brought some letters from another French officer who turned out to be a traitor collaborating with an English man in the council.

“These letters provided the evidence of treason and allowed the state to charge the man responsible. He was captured but before we could investigate him, he was poisoned.”

“So you need to find the man on the French side who was involved in all this.” Rochefort concluded and gulped the wine.

“Perhaps he could shed some light on the case.”

“Alright. I need those letters and I’d like to see your dead man.”

“Why?”

“You said he was poisoned. There are particular circles which are known for their potions. If I’m to investigate, it’ll make it easier if I know where to look.”

“Very well. I’ll lead you to his cell.”

The men left the table as it was and walked out of the room. It was getting dark so the servants lit more candles and lamps in the castle. Rochefort followed Robin through the narrow corridor, until the men reached the entrance to a tower. The Earl of Essex was a curious man but he could refrain from asking questions when he knew it was inappropriate. That time, however, he found it slightly more difficult.

“What happened to your eye, if I may ask?”

The count frowned at Robin, a sign which the Earl of Essex assumed expressed offence. He was about to correct his mistake, when Rochefort spoke calmly.

“Every time I’m asked about it, I tell a different story.”

“Why?”

Rochefort did not answer but placed a hand on the small of Robin’s back to push the man forward. They were heading towards an unusual relationship, Robin thought.

When they reached the cell, Rochefort did not mind the etiquette and entered first, leaving the Earl behind, which he appreciated because the body was starting to smell. Robin had seen death but never caused by poison. Perhaps Rochefort was right to examine what substance might have been involved.

The count leant over the body and after mere seconds turned to Robin with a victorious smile.

“I know who to look for.”

Robin was genuinely pleased. His efforts seemed to be paying off, finally. Rochefort searched the traitor’s body, even though Robin knew all the letters and any possible evidence had been found already. Yet, the count took out his knife and cut out a small piece of cloth. Robin decided not to ask, as he looked through the barred hole in the wall.

“The evening has come. Although the Queen is not present, we have prepared most enjoyable attractions for our guest. There is going to be a play staged in less than an hour.”

“I’ve heard that the Queen is fond of theatre.” Rochefort admitted, to Robin’s satisfaction, and then added. “I am not.”

It was a trap. Either the Earl went through with the plan and bored the count to death, hoping that was the worst that could happen. Or he could call off the play and the actors and engage in one more drink, perhaps.

“I was made aware that the most beautiful and noble ladies would join us this evening. Are you sure you don’t want to give our courtly troupe a chance?”

Rochefort did not seem particularly interested in the offer but something changed in his voice and his eyes seemed softer than before.

“The Queen did promise me something. Someone.”

“Oh? Well, Her Majesty always keeps her promises.”

“Lead us, then.”

 

The room they entered resembled the one where they had eaten dinner. There was ample space but there were not many chairs provided for the audience. In one end of the room, there was a makeshift stage set up. Robin led the way to two seats at the front. A few of the courtiers were standing up, waiting for the Earl and the Queen’s guest to sit down.

Rochefort did not seem amused during the play. Frankly, he appeared to Robin as a reserved man, who rarely showed any emotions. The Earl was watching him throughout the performance and was even caught red-handed on a few instances, which he decided to disregard with a polite smile. He was only checking if his guest was properly entertained; nothing wrong with that. Thankfully, the count was polite enough not to yawn but his lack of interest was abundantly clear.

“The maids will lead you to your chambers, where you can bathe and rest. I wish you good night.” Robin stated with a barely noticeable bow and left the room.

 

At first, he could not fall asleep. He was rolling in his bed, from one side to the other, counting the days until he could go for an expedition somewhere to prove his worth to the Queen and the whole nation. Then, when he finally fell asleep, a nightmare took over his unconscious mind. He struggled a lot until a physiological urge forced him to wake in the middle of the night. It must have been the wine.

After relieving himself, Robin heard a noise coming from the room next to his. He assumed it was just his imagination, especially given his nightmare earlier, but he heard it again so he decided to investigate.

As he left his room, the noise got louder and resembled some sort of metal hitting against something. Robin became immediately suspicious and took out a knife he always had on him. He approached the door and leant in to listen. Clanging and clanking were coming from the inside, while Robin was sure no one was supposed to be there. That room was always empty.

Despite his health and reputation being at risk, the Earl opened the door a little, enough to see someone exercise with a sword. The man was half naked and had medium-length brownish hair. Robin saw how the muscles of the man’s arms flexed while he stretched and pretended to dodge the rival’s blow.

“Roch…” Robin shut his mouth before he could betray his presence. Or at least that was what he thought until Rochefort turned towards the door with a wide smile.

“Ah! Come in.” The man invited Robin and put down the sword. He poured another glass of water and offered it to the Earl of Essex.

Only then did Robin notice the count was not wearing the eyepatch. With droplets of sweat on his forehead and chest, Rochefort seemed like someone Robin aspired to be one day – brave, self-disciplined and strong. He would add some sense of humour and emotions to the mixture.

“Did you have trouble falling asleep?” Robin asked and approached a small table with the glasses of water on it.

“No. I was waiting.” The count uttered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Before Robin could even frown, let alone turn towards Rochefort, the man was inches away. He was neither forcing himself on the Earl, nor invading his personal space. Still, the proximity was unusual and had Robin uneasy.

“For once, Her Majesty was not lying.”

“The Queen never lies.” Robin corrected, attempting to save Her Majesty’s face.

Rochefort was eyeing Robin, focusing on the boy’s hair, lips, and shoulders. The examination felt wrong and too intimate for Robin’s taste so he stepped away from the count and headed towards the balcony.

“But I have a feeling she didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

That time, Robin had enough time to frown, while processing Rochefort’s words, as the man slowly decreased the distance between them. For a moment, the Earl was baffled; then, the worst possible thoughts came to his mind.

“What did you do with our Queen?” Robin asked and took an unfortunate step backwards, which made him flush with the wall behind him.

Rochefort sighed, visibly disappointed, and stopped in his advances.

“It’s not that. But keep thinking. Good night.”

The count opened the door for Robin to leave. The Earl tried to gather all the information which would allow him to solve the riddle that was the man before him, but failed. Then, suddenly, the enlightenment came in a bunch of words.

_The Queen did promise me something. Someone._

_I was waiting._

“Oh!”

Robin glanced at the bed, which was empty and not really a mess. Rochefort was only expecting company.

“I’ll go and make sure that the arrangements are fulfilled.” The Earl spoke happily.

“Robin.”

Coming from Rochefort’s mouth, his name alone would have stopped him short. Yet, additionally, the count placed a hand on Robin’s shoulder. There was something strange, grotesque even about the whole situation.

No one but the Queen called him Robin and the fact that he just let Rochefort get away with it looked bad.

Warmth spread all over his body, starting when the other man’s skin met his. Thankfully, any goose bumps were safely hidden under his nightshirt. It was only his eyes, staring directly at his shoulder and then at Rochefort, which betrayed his confusion and newly discovered hunger for the seemingly dangerous man. It was then and there that his idol became the object of his desire. It was also at that moment when he realised what exactly Her Majesty promised Rochefort. Or rather whom. And he would have been angry at Her if not for the fact that she seemed to know him better than he did himself. Never, not in a thousand years, would he come to the conclusion that he was interested in men in the slightest. Then again, it only made sense.

“I’m Her gift, aren’t I?”

“You were. You may leave now.”

“No.”

“No?”

Rochefort watched as the younger man in front of him gained confidence with every second.

“You wanted something. I want something, too.”

“Very well.”

The count waited for the favour to be verbalised but Robin was already busy claiming his mouth.

It was an experience, like any other. The Earl expected it to prove either that he was attracted exclusively to women or that his whole life was a lie. Rochefort did not push him away but rather embraced what was happening. He was fairly new to courtly love and affairs that he had only heard rumours about. Kissing the Earl of Essex was unlike kissing any farm or servant boy.

Robin, on the other hand, compared the taste of the count’s lips to the ones of pale semi-noble ladies he’d encountered. Somehow, the sweetness and softness that he used to appreciate seemed inadequate at the moment.

The Earl pressed against Rochefort with a little more strength. Usually, he had been met with a soft bosom but now he was facing a powerful lithe man who didn’t seem like a flirting type.

Robin noted mentally that kissing a man with a beard was not as terrible as he might have suspected, if he had ever given that a thought, and that having one eye did not matter when they both closed them.

A shiver ran down Robin’s spine, which made the man withdraw gently.

“You’re not so innocent.” Rochefort observed and placed a hand on Robin’s waist.

“Did you expect me to be a virgin who’s never seen above the ankle?”

“Not at first, no.”

Robin stared at the hairy and sweaty chest before him and evaluated his decision about coming to that room.

“Do you want to see above my ankles?”

“Yes.”


End file.
